


Sliced

by EverlivingGhosts



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff, Love, M/M, Romance, goth kylo ren, hux is forced to wear a terrible apron, in which blackpool is the backdrop of romance, which should give you some hint of the pure lack of seriousness in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:51:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts
Summary: A very put-out Hux is forced to work in an old lady tea room in Blackpool over the summer. When a surly goth and his parents come in for a nice slice of cake, Hux's patience is tested in more ways than one. Modern AU, basically a Coffee Shop AU but with extra cake and terrible flowery aprons.





	Sliced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dangsoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangsoo/gifts).



> My good friend and terrible enabler @Dangsoo challenged me to write a fic that had the theme of Star Wars, the Seaside and a Piece of Cake. This happened. Written in an evening with only a sprinkle of seriousness and with a lingering love for Blackpool. 
> 
> http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JHqEgP73iAY/UX5Rb0nhb_I/AAAAAAAAB8E/--QFuhPh4Tc/s1600/Summer.jpg Here is Hux's apron you're welcome.

The bell over the door tinkled as Hux pushed it open. With a sigh, he picked up the flowery apron hung carelessly over a hook and yanked it around him. He fastened the lurid green spotted tie around his waist and just managed to plaster a smile onto his face as the owner of the tearoom waddled in from the back room. He frowned.

 

“We talked about the smiling.” Mr. Snoke said, “I would rather you didn’t bother. You look like you’ve stolen one of my lemons from the pantry.”

 

Face falling into a scowl, Hux turned to sort out the spoons in the cutlery rack. Three more weeks. Three more damn weeks and he would be free from this shitty summer job. His heart sang as he imagined never having to look at a victoria sponge again, never having to hear that the yellow and green of his apron looked _lovely_ with his hair. It didn’t. People lied because they could see the pain Hux was in at being exiled in an old lady tearoom in one of the nicest summers in memory.

 

The seagulls gave their ringing calls outside, a few braver ones floating down to nick a few crumbs of cake from the tables outside before attacking locals for their cones of chips. Snoke berated Hux for not cleaning the tables properly and Hux imagined using the cake slicer on his stupid wrinkled head as he scrubbed the fussy tablecloths clean again. Families walked past with small children crunching on sticks of rock, a few pointing hopefully at the quaint little tearoom Hux was currently imprisoned in. The parents cast their eye over his tortured expression, gave him a sympathetic look and poked their children towards the beach instead.

 

Blackpool was full to the brim with beachgoers, eyes on the tacky slot machines and feet free to walk the gritty sand as they pleased. Hux was full to the brim with irritation, although he supposed it was fairly pleasant to start the day with a piece of cheesecake. He put himself back in Snoke’s good books a little when he made them both a cup of tea in one of their more chipped teapots. He sat behind the till and sipped, feeling a little sanity slipping back in with the tea.

 

The day began with the typical crowd. Gaggles of elderly ladies flocked in like bright hatted birds, complaining loudly about the weather and complimenting him one after another on his hair. They were alright really; if Hux smiled and snuck them an extra biscuit or two he could often wangle a tip.

 

To be honest, it was the children that tested his nerves, the young ones with their endless mess and the surly teenagers who wouldn’t even look at him when they ordered their food. In the afternoon Hux looked up to see an exact specimen wedged into the furthest corner he could find and staunchly ignoring both of his parents.

Sighing with the inevitability of it all, Hux wandered over with a carefully edited version of his usual smile. There was a lingering feeling of an argument with this family, the father being too loud and bright and the mother sighing when she thought no one was paying attention. The son had his arms crossed and was staring out of the window at a boat. He was frowning at the boat as if it had done him a personal offense.

 

He was kind of spectacular, this specimen. Thick eyeliner, black nail varnish and clothes entirely inappropriate for a visit to the seaside. Too many chains for one thing. _Goth._ Hux’s mind supplied with amusement. His lip twitched. Unfortunately, the boy noticed and the long nose turned towards him.

 

“Hello?” The boy said, a little too rudely.

 

_Ah, American._ Hux thought. His amusement grew. He actually liked it when people were rude because it meant he was allowed to be rude back.

 

“Oh, hello.” Hux repeated sweetly, “You quite surprised me there. Blended in with the corner.”

 

His scowl deepened as the father snorted. The mother gave him a warning look and turned imploringly to Hux instead.

 

“Could we order, please?” She asked, looking quite like she wished they hadn’t bothered coming in at all. Feeling sorry for her, Hux relented.

 

“Of course.” He brought out his notepad, “What can I get for you?”

 

While the parents ordered, the son looked down at the patterned placemats. His dark hair fell across his shoulder to reveal a big ear with many piercings. Hux was distracted by a particularly large silver one, wondering if it was as ridiculously heavy as it looked.

 

“Ben?” The mother said suddenly, breaking him out of his reverie, “What do you want?”

 

The boy looked up for approximately one second before bringing his attention back to the placemat.

 

“Nothing.” He said in an unexpectedly deep voice. His mother sighed again.

 

“Ben, _please.”_ She sounded at the end of her tether. Ben just shrugged.

 

“I’ll just, ah, go.” Hux said pointedly.

 

He reversed as quickly as he could in the limited movement his tight apron allowed, blessing the fact that the large cake counter would hide this dismal family away from view. He had managed maybe five paces when a bored voice called.

 

“Can I have a lemon drizzle cake?”

 

Hux didn’t mind serving people, but he didn’t like being called at like a housemaid. He turned back and shone the full force of his unedited smile at this irritating boy.

 

“Of course.” Hux beamed at him, “Anything else? A drink?”

 

“Uh.” He was pleased to see the boy looking a little unsettled. “A… coffee. Black.”

 

Hux cocked an eyebrow at him. Ben looked a little sheepish.

 

“Two sugars, actually.”

 

Feeling victorious, Hux moved to the kitchen area and began preparing the drinks. As he had wished, a large carrot cake blocked Ben’s stupid face quite nicely. As the kettle gave a dull roar and the coffee machine gurgled in its long-suffering way, Hux set about slicing the cakes. Unfortunately, his mind was still on the strange goth boy and his family and he wasn’t paying ample attention to his job. The knife slipped and he cut his finger quite marvellously on the sharp blade.

 

“God fucking damn it, _shit_ -“ He cursed, inspecting the jagged cut. There was a slight cough from the right. Hux looked up to see none other than Ben leaning over the counter and looking faintly amused.

 

“Uh, hi.” He said. It was Hux’s turn to scowl.

 

“What do you want?” He shot back, forgetting as usual his promise to Snoke to be polite to every customer. Ben’s amused expression didn’t falter for an instant.

 

“I was wondering if I could have a cookie too?” He asked, pointing at a jar on the counter.

 

“It’s not a _cookie_.” Hux sniffed haughtily, “It’s a biscuit.”

 

“Whatever.” Ben said, “Three, please. I kinda need a peace offering here.”

 

Feeling thoroughly pissed off now, Hux reached for the jar. But Ben reached over at the same time and Hux saw that he had a few leather wristbands and a spiky bracelet just before the hand accidentally settled on his. He stared.

 

“You’re bleeding on the cake.” Ben supplied helpfully. With a jolt, Hux looked down and saw that his finger was dripping fine red drops onto the slice of lemon drizzle cake he had just cut.

 

“Oh, fantastic.” Hux snapped, “What a great day. Really adds a special something to the whole experience, don’t you think?”

 

“I do.” Ben grinned. He had a nice grin, very goofy on his mismatched face. “I would rather have less blood on my cake though.”

 

“Honestly? I would have expected that to be your sort of thing.” Hux said, eyeing the pentagram necklace hanging on his neck. Ben gave a laugh.

 

“Not really. Here,” He pulled a napkin from the cutlery stand and held it out. Hux took it gratefully and wrapped it around his finger.

 

“Thank you.” He really didn’t need a throbbing finger to add to his already stressful day. “I’ll try not to bleed on the next slice.”

 

“Good.” Ben was still grinning, “Love your apron.”

 

Hux stared as he stalked off with the plate of biscuits, treated to his nicely broad back. He had no business having a back as nice as that. Hux was feeling a little disgruntled as he wiped the bloody evidence away on the plate below him.

 

Eventually he got the cakes out, balancing them awkwardly on a tray as he tried not to jostle his finger. There was an air of a stalemate at the table now, for which Hux was grateful.

 

“Sorry for the wait.” Hux said as he laid the teapot on the table, “I had an unfortunate kitchen situation.”

 

“That’s okay, kid.” The dad replied, giving him a winning smile, “We have enough of them at home.”

 

The mother kicked him under the table. As he cursed she turned to Hux.

 

“Ignore him.” She said, staring daggers at her husband, “I’m an excellent cook. I just have terrible critics.”

 

The father and son exchanged a glance but seemed to think it safer not to reply to this. Hux could help but slip into a smile, a real one this time. Ben was watching him closely.

 

“I’ll be over here if you need anything.” He said, pointing to the till, “Just call or frisbee one of the plates over. Anything to break the monotony.”

 

He had played his cards right and the family laughed. He felt pleased as he settled back behind the cake counter, glad that he had managed to steer a family away from total destruction. He had seen it happen too many times this summer. Tears and broken plates and crying before the tea had even stewed properly. But the family looked quite chipper as they settled into eating the cakes. He busied himself with wiping a few tables and slipped them another plate of biscuits when Snoke disappeared into the back room.

 

Unfortunately, the tearoom began filling up with the usual afternoon crowd and Hux was weaving through the frilly cushioned chairs and wooden tables with the balance of an acrobat, balancing cakes and precious cups on tea carefully in his arms. He couldn’t go back to the family until he gave them the bill, and even then an old dear pulled at his sleeve and distracted him. When it slowed down he saw to his dismay that they had left.

 

Filled with something resembling disappointment, Hux set about clearing the table. His hands brushed across the crumbs and abandoned knives and forks until they settled on a napkin that had been under Ben’s plate. It looked untouched, but when Hux looked down at it he saw words had been written on it in eyeliner.

_What’s your name?_

Hux stared at the clumsily written words. He whipped his head around the café, searching for this distinctly weird boy. But he just saw a few coiffed hairdos and canes. Confused, he spent the rest of the day with the napkin in his aproned pocket.

 

 

***  
  


The next day dawned with an iron-grey sky heavy with the threat of raindrops. Hux cursed the wretched sun for choosing today to disappear as he frantically pulled the tablecloths off of the outside tables when the heavens finally broke. Blackpool Tower was blurred in the rain, red lights blinking forlornly in the deluge. Hux ran back into the tearoom with his arms full of sopping fabric, hating the summer and hating whoever invented tablecloths even more.

 

In the afternoon there was a sea of sodden coats and rain slicked hair as beachgoers huddled to escape the deluge. The café was rather small and Hux felt a little claustrophobic as he sliced cake after cake, his finger encased in a flowery plaster Snoke had pulled from some god-forsaken cupboard. About midway through his shift he looked up and started as he saw a dark shape dripping in a long coat in the corner.

 

Smoothing his wet hair into something resembling neatness, Hux walked over to the table. Yes, he recognised the long nose peeking out of the hood. The painted black nails came up to lower the hood and Ben shook his mane of hair out like a dog. His make-up was running a little today, Hux was pleased to notice.

 

“Why, hello.” Hux said smoothly, slipping a menu onto his table. “I can’t believe you actually came back to this shithole.”

 

Ben just looked at him, head tipped to the side as he surveyed Hux. He held himself differently without his parents. He was a little cockier and sat a little less stiffly on his chair. Hux suddenly remembered the feeling of the hand on his own, warm and unexpected.

 

“Guess it was more interesting than I thought.” Ben suggested, “I’ll have another cookie, please.”

 

“Biscuit.” Hux turned swiftly around.

 

“Same thing.” Ben called after him. He lifted up the menu and grinned when another napkin fell onto his lap.

 

_Hux._

 

 

***

 

This sequence repeated for a few days. How Ben could both afford and have the appetite for so many biscuits, Hux didn’t know, but he quite enjoyed having the dark shape huddled in the corner every afternoon. They could have easily talked but there was something quite fun about exchanging the messages, especially when Ben came back with his parents later on in the week. Snoke also kept his beady eye on Hux if he spoke with people for too long anyway. Hux spent the late afternoons washing the various patterned pieces of crockery with the messages in his pocket.

 

_Hux?_

_“Ben the Goth”?_

_Fair. Here long?_

_Three more weeks. Save me._  
  


_Aw damn, I’m here two._

_Lucky._

_Do you have a break at all?_

Hux had thought long and hard about an answer to this. He had to go into the back on the pretence of checking the lemons for non-existent mould so that Ben couldn’t see him grin.

 

_Maybe._

 

There, that was good. Not too eager, but enough for Ben to grasp onto. He waited impatiently for the next message and it did not disappoint.

 

_What do I have to do to get your number?_

Hux forced his expression into neutrality and dropped the napkin in front of Ben, heart beating fast as he walked away and saw the hands grasping for it.

_More than you’re doing now._

Hux _loved_ watching Ben read that one. His eyes widened and his big lips parted in surprise. He looked up and gave Hux such an annoyed stare that Hux whisked behind the counter to safety. He wiped some crumbs away from the money drawer and so didn’t catch the shadow until it had fallen over him.

 

“Asshole.” The growl came from above. Hux straightened up and feigned an innocent expression.

 

“I’m sorry.” Hux offered, “Was your food unsatisfactory?”

It was lucky that it was the end of the day, as no customers were there to witness Ben darting across the counter and grabbing the front of Hux’s apron in a very ungraceful way. Hux could barely give even a squeak as Ben pulled him close and kissed him roughly against the glass of the cake counter. For all of his fury he didn’t seem very experienced; all big nose and awkward hands. But it was lovely really, although Hux hope that they hadn’t jostled the battenbergs too badly. When Ben drew back he had smudged lipstick and a distinct challenge in his eyes. Hux suspected that he had lipstick all over his face and liked it.

 

“I’m sorry.” Hux said after a few moments, “Is that how you treat every waiter you meet?”

 

Ben gave a huff, still holding onto his apron.

 

“No.” He said, clearly annoyed that he hadn’t completely rendered Hux speechless with his actions, “Only the particularly annoying ones.”

 

Hux kissed him again just to shut him up. Ben was better this time, leaning into it a bit more. Hux’s hand found his waist and then slipped under his shirt to feel his stomach. Ben shivered at the touch of his cold hands.

 

“I’m free this evening.” Hux said, very pleased at this discovery, “Make it worth my time.”

 

He slipped his hand just slightly below his waistband and Ben gave another shiver.

 

“Meet me at the pier.” He said very quickly, “Eight. Wear the apron.”

 

This actually did render Hux speechless for a moment.

 

“What?” He protested. Ben looked him up and down, seemingly absorbed with the sight.

 

“I lied before. It’s terrifying.” He said, almost in an awed voice, “I can’t imagine you without it.”

 

Hux just shook his head in exasperation. Ben was utterly ridiculous. And yet, and yet. He felt very nice, and he kissed even more nicely with a little prompting.

 

“You weirdo.” Hux just said, “Fine, eight it is. Buy me dinner.”

 

Ben grinned at him and slunk away, moving to pick his bag from the table. The sky was slowly leaking orange into the darkening blue as Ben made his way out of the door and towards the beach. As Hux watched him go, he wondered if his job was really so terrible after all.


End file.
